Piece of Paper
by PockyWarriors
Summary: Natalya didn't think that she would have to confide in a simple piece of paper to rid herself of the thoughts,and "feelings" and actions that night.But then again the poor piece of paper never thought that it would have to bear witness to her rage either


I cannot begin to describe my anger…or maybe it is jealousy.

Whichever it may be I feel like a monster for letting it eat me away. For letting it take control of me.

But I couldn't help it… I mean at the moment all I could really feel was anger, rage, hatred, the same things rolled into one. To meld the momentary beast I was at that moment. Just seeing her happier then I was with him, was enough to turn me into the biggest bitch alive.

I have no problem admitting what a bitch I was – or still am. I have come to terms with it. I have come to terms that… I don't know… she will always be happier than me? More successful with him then I?

It angered me that she was _so_ much better with him then me.

I suppose I lied to you in the beginning. I can indeed describe my anger and jealousy to you. But only you… although I find it silly to confide my "feelings" into a simple entry of a simple piece of paper within an even simpler and more pathetic excuse of a diary, I must confess, it does lessen the pain. Somewhat.

I have decided to transfer my angry feelings onto this piece of paper now; I care not if she finds it. Perhaps it will plant a seed of hate inside of her. And I hope it will grow, for if she were to hate me then it would be that much easier for me to loathe her. Despise her; wish her to the darkest pits of hell. But she does not hate me, she wishes to apologize and soothe me. I do not want her to.

Now where was I? Oh yes, my anger. Hmmm, imagine – piece of paper – the thing you hold dearest in your heart, something that you wish to be so badly. A sort of ultimate goal in life. Yes, imagine…imagine all the happiness you could have achieved–No! Should have achieved. Until, someone that you also hold dear to your heart rips it away from you. Tears it from your once, unmarred hope, and smashes it to the ground, for her own selfish need.

I laugh as I write this paragraph down. No need to worry about me, I am not as crazy as you think. Rage does not cloud the reason in my mind. I shall wait.

I shall wait for the right moment to pounce. The right moment to steal away her happiness. The right moment to crush every last wisp of her sweet, innocent, loving soul. To watch the despair in her eyes, rise and then layer her lovely intoxicating eyes with a sweet cover of salty tears. I want to watch her face turn slowly to me and crinkle her features into the picture of sorrow, as she realizes that what she will feel at that moment is the exact same thing that I felt, when I caught the both of them, in their precious cliché affair.

I will persist in my patience, as it will reward me with the leverage that I will need to strike them both down. My wonderful handsome brother, evading me as if I were a distasteful child. Not even important enough to bother with. And my dear sister. Nice enough, but intolerable at times like these.

Humph…Looking back now, I guess that my actions were also acts of jealousy. Shall I describe them to you? Piece of paper?

No? You do not wish for me to write on you what I will never tell to anyone else? Why? Can you already tell that I am a psychotic bitch who cannot have anyone happy but me?

Well, I pity you. Because I will depict my sinful actions anyways.

The first hateful movement I made, when I walked in on them was to tear them apart. My brother had held her with his strong arms and she was smiling as she leaned into him on tip-toe, to press her lips to his one more time before she had to leave. But it was not to be. I made sure of that.

I rushed forward, a cry escaping my mouth, long and angry. Mourning and hatred, mixed together to form a deadly combination. I struck my sister first. My smaller fists pounding into her chest anywhere I felt would hurt her. I swear that I heard cracks and screams when I was beating on her. I remember laughing out loud at her embarrassing sounds.

My brother tried to interfere, but he would have been better off watching my darling sister cry in pain - for I had not unleashed my full fury yet. And my brother was the poor soul who I had decided to set it on.

He backed away when our eyes met, under my disheveled hair, for the first time I saw fear in my sweet brother's eyes. But that did little to deter me. I leapt forward, the pitiful lump that was my sister was left on the floor forgotten.

He raised his arms, a meager attempt at self defense. I am sure I laughed at him, for throwing up his arms like that, but he did nothing to make me regret it. No glares of order, no raised hands ready to strike me. Nothing.

I felt nothing, if he did not wish to protect himself from me – well it was not I who was being clawed.

I scratched my nails along his raised arms, lines of blood following the trails my sharp tips had made. I grabbed his shoulders digging my nails in and hearing him make a weak try at telling me to stop. But I would not. And I did not. I threw my fists with every muscle and tendon in my body, aiming at his face; I was satisfied to hear the beautiful crunch of a bone breaking. An exciting symphony of the hardened tissue cracking mixed with the soft cries of pain, emitted from the once proud form of a now broken man.

However dear little piece of paper, I will not force you to bear the rest of my painful portraits of words; just know that I have barely scratched the surface of what I did.

I will save you the pain, and make another page hold the brunt of this dark day, for I am running out of space and I would like to leave a few closing lines for this entry.

This morning I had a sister and a brother. This afternoon I had a sister and a brother. This evening I have two targets, both ready for me to take down. Slowly, mercilessly, and with the most anger and jealousy I have within my small body, I will take them down.

Thank you for holding – although without a choice – my thoughts and "feelings" you worthless piece of paper.

~Natalya

Umm…hmm yes well this is my first attempt at a Horror/Angst fic, as well as a Ukraine-Belarus-Russia fic.

If there was any confusion, Natalya was kind of conversing with the paper, telling it her actions and such.

So please leave a review, telling me if you liked it or not, whichever.

Thanks for reading,-P.W.


End file.
